


Atrophy

by missouterspace



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, Severus Snape - Freeform, snape - Freeform, snape romance, snape ship, snape/oc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:28:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29510403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missouterspace/pseuds/missouterspace
Summary: As Severus Snape struggles with the consequences of his life choices, he falls in love with a young woman who makes him feel as though he could be a better man. She sees the best in him and he devotes his life to her, but no matter how hard he tries he can't keep her safe from the dark secrets he's tied to and soon enough the horrible things he's done catch up with them. Through a tragic telling of romance and betrayal, Severus finds his redemption in a girl named Ophelia.Authors note: I do not support JK Rowling nor do I agree with the bad things Severus Snape and the other Death Eaters have done, this is a redemption fic.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Snape/OC
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. I Will Crawl Like a Sinner To Be At Your Feet

**_Come my dear and be a part of my home_ **

**_Missing stitch and flowers on a headstone_ **

**_And I will crawl like a sinner to be at your feet_ **

**_Should God or the devil ever ask for me_ **

Pale hands clutched the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink, a shaky breath escaping Severus' lips. Dumbledore was gone. _He had done it, he had killed him_. Guilt wracked his entire body, but he had been forced to hide his emotions the entire night. Now that he was alone, he could not sleep, his mind swirling with uneasy thoughts. _How could he keep going on like this? What must everyone be thinking? What must_ ** _she_** _think about him?_

Severus pushed away from the sink with a heavy sigh, nudging the door open. He leaned against the door frame, his cold gaze following a beam of moonlight that washed over the woman in his bed. Her blonde curls shone in the soft glow, splayed over the pillows in waves of silver. She looked peaceful, as if she hadn't spent the last two hours screaming and crying.

_"I don't understand, Severus, this isn't you!"_

_He had ignored her, jaw clenched tight as he kept himself silent._

_"Just tell me why? Why did you do it?"_

_He couldn't tell her even if he wanted to._

_"Severus, please!"_

She was still wrapped up in his cloak under the quilt, clutching it in her sleep. _It made his heart ache_. Severus pushed away from the door frame and crossed the room to sink into the bed beside her. She did not stir, deep in a dreamless sleep where she did not have to think about what he had done. He felt unworthy as he reached forward to run his fingertips through her silken hair, his gaze still fixated on her sleeping form.

" _How did we get ourselves here, Ophelia?_ "

**_Chapter 1._ **

**_Take my word but keep the upper hand_ **

**_I know you- you're the daughter of a lonely man_ **

**_Let my hope grow cold and atrophy_ **

**_'Cause there is no more room in your heart for me_ **

Severus never imagined loving someone after Lily, he had never thought it possible. Everything he did, he did for her. Every ounce of his heart belonged to the woman he had lost, and yet all of that fell away the moment he took the time to know _Ophelia_.

Ophelia Diggory had attended Hogwarts years before her younger brother, graduating the year he started his first term. Severus had been her teacher during her time at Hogwarts and had always considered her exceptionally brilliant, though her being sorted into Gryffindor had set a wedge between them from the beginning. She had looked up to him, finding comfort in his brooding nature, and he had found her _tolerable_. Ophelia had exceeded in potions and was generally obedient, earning Severus' favor. By the time she had graduated, he had high hopes for her brother.

After her seventh year, he did not see Ophelia again until Cedric's nomination for the Triwizard Tournament. Both she and her father attended each challenge, and both of them had been present at the time of his death. Severus had been the one to escort Ophelia back inside that night, letting her lean on him for support as she sobbed, clutching his arm in a way that made him stiff and uneasy. He had no warmth in his heart for her then, but he had pity. He knew what it was like to lose someone he loved, _that kind of pain could last for years_ , so he did his best to accommodate her needs. When Ophelia left the castle that night, he didn't think he would ever see her again. She had no reason to cross paths with him after her brother's passing; not until Dumbledore requested she join the Order of the Phoenix.

It was hard not to notice her during meetings. She was much more sullen than she had been during her time at Hogwarts, carrying the burden of her grieving father all the while still trying to keep her own head above water. And yet when she spoke, she always seemed to sound as if she were full of hope. It was a hope he had not witnessed in anyone for years and his own cynicism was no match for her delicate voice. He found himself constantly lingering on every word she spoke and was often distracted by her, transfixed by the way her coral lips moved to breathe and speak. But his heart was atrophy; _he couldn't possibly love anyone._

Severus grew accustomed to seeing her, so much so that he felt he could not possibly stand to be away from her for longer than a week. He denied any unprofessional feelings, assuring himself it was her wit and her endurance he admired most (when it was in fact her brilliant blue eyes and round, freckled cheeks). As the first term of school began to grow closer, threatening his weekly sightings of her, he knew he had to do something to secure her company.

Ophelia stayed behind one night after a particularly stressful meeting with the Order, waiting by the kitchen stove for Tonks to come back downstairs with a glass of wine to calm her nerves. When the door creaked open, it wasn't the bubblegum haired witch Ophelia saw, but Severus, holding the glass of wine she had requested. The young woman furrowed her pale brows and moved to hold the door open for him, glancing up the stairs to see if anyone else would be joining them.

"Nymphadora is submerged in a particularly interesting debate with Sirius Black."

"What is it?"

"Pardon?" His eyes flicked up to meet hers, placing the fragile wine glass in her hands.

"The debate, what is it?"

"Something childish. It appears Ms. Tonks thinks she can fly a broom better than he can." Severus gave her a hint of a smile though his body remained stiff.

Ophelia returned his smile, but the pleasantry did not reach her lambent eyes. As she lowered herself in a chair in the corner of the room, she motioned for Severus to sit beside her. She had not spoken to him much since she had graduated, even when he had escorted her back to the castle after her brother's death, she had not said one word to him.

As if Severus knew what she was thinking, he cleared his throat and directed the conversation towards something no one had mentioned to her for months. "How are you doing? Since your brother died?"

Ophelia was shocked. In all her years of knowing him, she had never heard him ask someone how they were doing. She watched him carefully as he sat in the chair beside her, his cape swallowing his broad figure. The woman forced her gaze away from his cold black eyes, taking a slow steady sip of her wine before answering him.

"I'm...surviving."

"That is all that can be expected, Miss Diggory-"

"Thank you, professor."

Severus went stiff, visibly cringing at the reminder that he had indeed once been her teacher. It was uncomfortable to imagine a time when she was anything but the brave, brilliant woman that sat before him now, but the very poison that her words filled him with brought him the opportunity he was waiting for.

"You were always very exceptional in my class-"

"Thank you, professor," she repeated, earning a pointed gaze from the man.

"Let...me finish." His voice was firm but far from reprimanding, his hands clasped in his lap. "You were particularly talented in the art of potions. Your ambitions did not go unnoticed, yet I can't help but imagine you would have excelled much more had I the proper time to teach you things beyond your course work." He paused, looking her over with his steely gaze. "Do you have any...prospects lined up for your future?"

"Sir?"

"Your career, miss. Do you have an occupation?"

"No, sir-"

"Severus. Call me Severus. You are no longer my student, you haven't been my student for several years. No need for such formalities."

Ophelia sucked in a deep breath, her hands tightening around her wine glass. She had never known such a personable side of the man. She had grown up watching him torment her peers, and yet he seemed _inviting_. "No, Severus, I do not have a career. I spent the last several years traveling and only recently settled back home. My father can't be alone anymore, so I've been taking care of him."

Severus' eyes turned away from her as he tried his best to feel sympathy for her- to his surprise, it came much easier than he expected. _He didn't have to try so hard to care for her_. "Right. That must be...difficult."

She offered him a weak smile, though her eyes held a glimmer of pain that made his heart ache for her. _Such a cold, dead organ, his heart_.

"Do you feel comfortable leaving your father long enough to assist me with my class during the school term?"

Ophelia nearly dropped her glass, spilling the contents all over the skirt of her blue summer dress. _She hadn't imagined returning to Hogwarts after losing Cedric_.

"Oh-have I said something wrong?" He asked hurriedly, reaching out to steady the glass in her hands.

"No sir- _Severus_ , I- _What are you asking me?_ "

"Are you at all interested in being an assistant to my class? You always showed an aptitude for the subject material, and I think it would be good for you to do something for your future."

_Since when had he cared for anyone's future?_

Ophelia surrendered the glass of wine to him, watching the red liquid soak through the thin fabric of her dress. "If you're offering me a position as your assistant, don't you think you should consult the headmaster?"

"I can speak to him once I know your desires on the matter."

The woman fell silent, her eyes fixated on the stain setting into her skirt. If she returned, she would be haunted by memories, but if she didn't accept his offer she might never find the first step to moving forward.

 _And so she accepted_.

Her presence in his classroom offered a strange sense of security to the students, something he might have noticed instantly had he not been entirely enraptured by her dedication. Through the school year, he offered her private lessons that went beyond what he taught in class. He enjoyed watching her flourish, and the fact that she had learned everything under his wing made him feel proud. _He had never been proud of anything before_.

By winter, he could no longer deny himself the admittance that he _cared_ for her. He saw her everywhere- in class, at breakfast, at lunch, at dinner. Even his dreams that had once been haunted by Lily were filled with Ophelia's sweet voice. She was the first thing he thought of when he woke up, the last thing he thought of before he fell asleep, and the only thing he could bring himself to think of in his most intimate and selfish moments of pleasure. He could no longer lie to himself.

Ophelia made him feel seen in a way he hadn't even felt with Lily. She made him feel like he could be redeemed for every terrible thing he had ever done, as if she could whisper away every regret that plagued him. She made him feel as if he could start over; and yet he knew in his heart he couldn't be anything other than a disappointment.

Christmas break was approaching and the cold weather made it nearly impossible to get out of bed in the mornings. Severus sat at the edge of his bed, his blankets draped over his broad shoulders as he stared down at his forearm. He had dreamed of Ophelia's blonde curls and button nose the entire night, but woke up alone to the mark on his arm burning black against his pale skin. Severus stared down at the mark, sneering unpleasantly even as the pain began to fade. _How could she possibly love a monster like him? He was irredeemable._ When he saw her that afternoon in her bright red cardigan, helping decorate the great hall for Christmas, _he knew she could never know who he had once been. He could never let her find out._

Ophelia spent the winter holiday at the castle with her colleagues and a handful of students and when Christmas Eve rolled around, she presented Severus with a gift.

He was shocked to receive a gift from _anyone_ let alone _her_. "Thank you, miss Ophelia. I apologize, I did not get you anything in return, I was not expecting this."

"I don't want anything in return, I just thought you could use a little holiday spirit. You're the only man I know who wears black year round, maybe you'll consider wearing a Christmas jumper for me now?"

Severus gaped at her, a thick black brow cocked in confusion at her words.

"Aren't you going to open it?" She quipped, sitting herself atop one of the desks in his classroom.

"Oh! Yes, certainly, of course," he stuttered, carefully turning the package over in his hands. It was larger than he was comfortable with, in fact he was most comfortable with receiving no gifts at all, but if he had to be given something he preferred something small. He set the package down at his desk, lowering himself into his chair before unwrapping the green bow that held the parcel together. When he opened the box, a soft gasp escaped his lips. She had gifted him a medium sized silver cauldron with his name engraved on the handles. "Oh, Ophelia-"

"Do you like it?" She asked hopefully.

His usually cold gaze turned towards her with something akin to fondness. "Of course I do, but this is... _too much_." He set it down on his desk proudly, gazing at it in wonder. " _Why?_ "

"Because it's Christmas," she laughed. "And I know you can get use out of this. Why don't we brew something together now and test it out?" She hopped off the desk she was seated at and moved to the cupboard to find a spare textbook. Severus couldn't help his gaze lingering on the soft curve of her jaw and her rosy cheeks, his lips twitching into a rare smile. After a moment, the girl returned with the textbook and pointed to a list of common ingredients. "Amortentia. I've always wanted to know what mine smells like and I don't recall brewing it in your class."

Severus' faint smile faded and his shoulders went stiff. "That's because I don't teach this potion. For a number of reasons."

"Well, will you make an exception for me?"

His eyes flicked up to meet hers and after a long brooding pause he finally gave in. "Yes. You know where to get the ingredients, I want to watch you and see if my teachings have paid off all these years."

Ophelia nodded obediently, despite the fact that she hadn't been his student for several years. Silently, she went to work and he watched her closely. He was impressed with the way she conducted herself as she brewed the potion, and he admired the way she chewed her lip in concentration. He could watch her for hours, and by the time she was finished he had no idea how much time had passed. He only snapped out of his daze when she cleared her throat.

"I think I did everything right. You tell me what you smell first."

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but he obliged her. Standing from his chair, he stepped towards her and leaned in to smell the bubbling potion. He had expected it to smell the way it had when he was younger, back then it had smelled of old books and Lily Evans' shampoo, but now he smelled something entirely different. The scent of pineapple and jasmine flowers wafted over him, a scent he now smelled every day, a scent he smelled even as he stepped back from the cauldron.

"I think you brewed this wrong, miss Ophelia," he muttered with a curious smirk. "All I smell is your perfume."

Ophelia's eyes snapped up to meet his gaze, her chest visibly heaving under her red blouse. "Sir-" Her voice was a distant whisper, a softness that made Severus uneasy. "I'm not wearing any perfume."

His stomach dropped. Black eyes flicked between her brilliant blue ones, his throat suddenly tight. "Ah. I must have been mistaken." His tone was stiff, his expression unreadable. "What do you smell?"

"Leather shoes, old books, men's cologne, and an assortment of herbs used in this very potion."

His hands gripped the desk until his knuckles turned white, his heart thumping hard in his chest. "Is that so?"

Ophelia took a step closer, her hand brushing his. He pulled back sharply as if he had been burned, his teeth grinding as a jolt of electricity ran through his body.

"I need you to go."

"Sir-"

"It's getting late, we've been at this for too long."

"Sir, please-"

"Thank you for the gift, that was very considerate of you. You didn't have to, and I appreciate your generosity, but I need you to leave."

"But you smelled-"

"I didn't smell _anything_."

"That's not possible sir-"

" _Stop calling me sir!_ " He hadn't meant to shout, but the echo of his voice rang through the empty classroom, making Ophelia flinch. He knew it was too late to fix what he had done, watching helplessly as she backed out of the room nervously, her hands shaking. He had never seen her afraid of _him_ and he felt horrible. As he bowed his head in shame, the smell of the amortentia washed over him again, the sweet scent of Ophelia lingering even though she was already halfway down the hall. _He was horrible. He must be foolish to think he could love somebody_. His head snapped up, his jaw still clenched. _He must be foolish to hurt her._

Severus rushed out of the classroom, his cape sweeping the floor beneath him. It took him a moment to catch up with her, but before she could make it to the stairs, he caught her delicate wrist and pulled her back against him.

Ophelia looked back at him, feeling him pulling her into his chest. Her blonde brows furrowed and her mouth fell open to question him, but he silenced her, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers before he could change his mind. _Ophelia had never been more baffled and Severus had never been so brave._

"I didn't mean it, I _swear_ I didn't mean it-"

She cut him off with another kiss, her arms wrapping around his waist and her body melting into his. It's a foreign feeling to him, something he's never felt before, and the way his heart thumped in his chest made him feel as if he could die; _wouldn't her arms be a lovely place to die?_

They do not pull away until they are both in dire need of breath, a breath they share as their lips refuse to fully part, flesh ghosting flesh. Ophelia feels drunk on euphoria and Severus is sure this kiss could last him the rest of his miserable life. He would never want for anyone or anything more, all his swirling thoughts could focus on now was her- _Not Lily, not his past, just her._

" _Severus_ -"

Her soft voice pulled him from his dazed bliss, anchoring him to the present moment. He gathered enough sense to straighten himself up and step away from her, his cold gaze fixed on hers. His bravery was faltering as he studied her, her usually animated face frozen in an unreadable expression, and he found himself panicking. _Had he made her uncomfortable? Had he gone too far?_ His jaw clenched but almost instantly relaxed as she offered him a genuine smile. _His heart ached for her_.

"Merry Christmas, Ophelia."

Unsatisfied with his words, the young woman pulled him back into her, taking control of the kiss this time. Her small hands gripped his collar and his hands dared to travel to her wide hips, feeling her warmth radiating beneath his freezing palms. He heard a soft sigh spill from her lips and a hot blush crept up his neck, prompting him to pull away before he lost himself in her. Carefully, he pushed her hips away from him, setting a distance between them.

"I have become completely ahead of myself," he grumbled. He couldn't bring himself to apologize. He wasn't a man who knew how to say _sorry_ , least of all for something he had _enjoyed_. "I neglected to ask you if you wanted that-"

"I didn't know I did."

"Is that completely true?"

Her breath hitched and her mouth fell open to protest, _or rather to explain herself_ , but nothing came out. Severus seemed to pick up on the embarrassment he had caused her and decided to soften the blow.

"I only mean that we _both_ smelled each other in our amortentia," he whispered, reaching out to tuck a strand of golden blonde hair behind her ear. Though the corridor was dark and dimly lit by a few stray candles, he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of sunshine radiating through her curls.

"Are you... _smiling_ , Severus?"

His thick brows raised in shock as he became suddenly aware of the fact that he was, indeed, smiling. "I suppose I am. Don't get so comfortable with it, Miss Ophelia. I'd hate to disappoint you with my stoic nature."

"On the contrary, I am very well acquainted with your _stoic nature_."

He took in a sharp breath, remembering in just what circumstances she had become acquainted with him. "This is entirely...wrong. I was your teacher once."

"Seven years ago."

"Ophelia-"

"I'm not a child anymore-"

"No, but you were and I knew you as such."

Her heart sank but she knew he was right. He was only ten years older than her, but he had been her professor when she was much younger than she was now. "I should go," she choked out, taking a step back from him.

"Sweet Ophelia." His voice was pleading, but for what he was begging her for he did not know.

"I didn't mean to overstep, Severus-"

_How could he hurt her twice in one night?_

"It won't happen again-"

_Perhaps his heart really was atrophy; degenerated and vestigial._

"Goodbye, Severus."

Those words washed over him like a wave of freezing cold water, knocking the air out of him and making him gasp for breath. " _Ophelia_..." He paused, savoring the way her name had rolled off of his tongue as if it would be the last time he said it. "Wait a minute."

She watched him curiously as he unclipped his cape and, with a great sweeping motion, placed it around her shoulders. "Sir-?"

"You looked cold."

Severus leaned down and placed an uncertain kiss against her forehead, lingering for a moment to take in her scent. When he pulled away, she was smiling, but there was a certain kind of sadness in her eyes; _longing_. They both knew they couldn't act on their feelings, and even if they could they were both too terrified. Severus had spent years building up walls and Ophelia had never had a real chance with love.

"You can return the cloak in the morning. You better get to bed."

The young woman nodded, her gaze falling away from his quickly as she pulled the cloak tighter around her. "Goodnight, Severus. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Ophelia."

After that encounter, Severus had spent many sleepless nights thinking of her, wondering if he had done the right thing. _How could he tell? He had never done the right thing nor had he ever cared to..._ He found it near impossible to stop thinking of her, even in the day. He saw her in the classroom and at meals and meetings, and eventually they both gave in to the fact that they could not avoid each other. _Nor did they want to._

Their relationship was by no means smooth sailing. Severus was not accustomed to caring for another person, nor was he comfortable with the idea of someone else caring for _him_. He kept his guard up until he couldn't anymore, and eventually there would be a time when he just couldn't avoid telling her everything - _she would find out one way or another, it was best coming from him- a_ nd he knew that time had come when she discovered his dark mark.

It was after their first time being intimate. She had spent a weekend with him at Spinner's End at the beginning of the summer holiday, unable to keep herself away from him now that school had been dismissed. Severus had kept his undershirt on, unbuttoned and untidy, and he hadn't noticed that his sleeve had rolled up.

Ophelia propped herself up on her elbows, looking down at Severus with the softest expression he had ever seen anyone wear in regards to him. His lips quirked into a similar smile, dark eyes searching her pale face.

"Well?" He asked in a low voice. "Was that what you'd hoped it would be?" There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, a softness Ophelia had never seen in the man before.

"You did not disappoint, Severus."

The man let out a soft huff before reaching out to brush her blonde curls from her face, but before he could even touch her something had caught her eye. Her soft gaze fell to his forearm, her smile fading. He could see the wheels turning in her mind and his heart leapt to his throat.

" _What is that_ , Severus?" Her voice trembled and his blood ran cold. When he didn't answer, she reached out and pulled his sleeve up further, her fingertips grazing the dark ink against his skin. "What is this?"

"You're perceptive, Ophelia, you know what it is."

Her throat tightened around her breath and she pulled away, wrapping his red silk bed sheet around her body as she put distance between them. "No...Severus, you're-"

Severus sat up in bed with a heavy sigh, pulling his sleeve down to hide the mark. "I was very young-"

"You never told me. You...You know they killed my brother and you...you're one of them...Are you _still_ one of them?" She choked back a sob and slid out of bed, letting the sheet slip from her full figure as she looked for her dress. "You're-"

" _A monster_ , I know," he interjected. "But it's more complicated than that, Ophelia."

"How?" The woman snapped, turning towards him with a gaze full of hatred. "How is this complicated? I trusted you!"

Severus' jaw clenched at those words, his stomach churning. He averted his gaze from her until she was dressed, only looking when she crawled back onto the bed.

"How could you be one of them? How could you betray the Order?"

"I was one of them before I joined the Order," he interjected, running a hand through his long black hair. "I defected and pledged my loyalty to Dumbledore after-." _He couldn't finish that sentence_. Luckily she spoke over him.

"How can I trust that?"

He remained silent, cold black eyes fixed on her gaze. He could see her blue eyes misted with tears and he knew it was _his fault_. He had promised himself he would never make her cry, and yet here he was. "I couldn't tell you-"

"Rubbish," she scoffed, looking away from him as hot tears spilled down her freckled cheeks. "This isn't something you hide from someone you-"

_Love._

"Ophelia, I didn't want to scare you." Severus slid out of bed and quickly pulled his slacks on before sitting beside her, hoping she would hear him out. _But he didn't know where to start_. "There is no excuse for me not telling you. And there is no excuse for _this_ -" he pointed to the mark on his arm. "But I _have_ changed my morals and my ideals since I was a part of their...organization. I no longer agree with their viewpoints or their actions."

"But you _did_."

"Right...I did."

"How _could_ you? It's entirely unforgivable. "

He sucked in a deep breath, letting the weight of her words settle into him. "I'm only asking you to forgive me for not telling you sooner."

" _Sooner?_ You didn't tell me at all!" She turned toward him. "What else don't I know about you? How could I ever trust you after this?"

He had _no choice_ but to tell her everything. Well... _almost everything_. He told her about his childhood, his family life- or lack thereof-, his life at school, being bullied, his old potions notebook and all of his work under the pen name The Half-Blood Prince, _being in love with Lily, pledging his loyalty to Dumbledore in Lily's memory.._. But that only brought up another entirely different conversation he did not want to have.

"Your heart belongs to someone else, I'm a fool to think you could love me. _I can never be her_." Ophelia's voice shook with the weight of her words and a loud silence rang through her ears. Severus looked at her with furrowed brows, his mouth agape in shock. He was rooted to the spot, his feet and his heart heavy with guilt. _Had he done something to make her think he didn't love her?_

"But I _do_ love you, Ophelia." His voice was a breathless rasp, the words foreign on his tongue. He had never been so quick to reveal his heart. "I don't _want_ you to be... Lily." The name left a bitter taste in his mouth, his lips curling in a slight sneer.

"I could never compare to her." Ophelia sank into the nearest chair, hands gripping the velvet fabric.

"That... _isn't true_."

Ophelia choked on a sob, her gaze falling away from his. "I don't know if I believe that, Severus."

"I have never lied to you."

Her blue eyes snapped back up towards him, her face falling. "But you _have_ lied to me, Severus. You have! You didn't tell me you were a-"

"Ophelia, don't..."

"I spent years trusting you, caring for you, _loving you_ , and the whole time I never knew you were _one of them._ You could have told me-"

"Don't-"

"You lied to me about that-"

"Please-" His voice broke, his resolve crumbling before her. He took a slow step forward but he couldn't bring himself to reach out and touch her. "Please don't do this, Ophelia. I _do_ love you."

Silence met him as her eyes turned towards the window, her blue hues misted with tears. She took in a deep breath, her chest aching.

"I realized I loved you when I stopped loving her."

"And when did you realize you stopped loving her?"

Severus' jaw clenched for a moment before he forced his mouth to speak. " _Expecto Patronum..._ " A jet of blue light flew from his wand, producing the silvery silhouette of a meadowlark. The creature caught Ophelia's eye and she blinked hard.

"What is-"

"My patronus was once a doe. For _Lily_."

Ophelia felt hot tears spill down her rounded cheeks, a soft gasp spilling from her lips. "And now..."

"It's changed to something that reminds me of you."

Ophelia's watery gaze met his, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched him take a careful step towards her. He knelt in front of her, his expression unreadable.

" _My lark_."

_Though Severus had never believed in marriage, they were married the following winter in a chapel near Hogsmeade while everyone was on Christmas holiday._

***

**_Come my dear and drink while the water's still cold_ **

**_I am naught but a scar upon your breastbone_ **

**_So kiss me quick, steal every secret I keep_ **

**_You can have anything you want from me._ **

Severus looked down at his sleeping wife, guilt wringing his heart. He had made a vow to her that he would protect her and never hide anything from her, but he had also made an unbreakable vow to do what Draco could not. _And now Dumbledore was dead_. A heavy sigh escaped him and Ophelia stirred in her sleep, her nose scrunching up slightly. He fell silent, not wanting to wake her, but her eyes fluttered open and a soft whimper fell from her lips when she remembered what had happened. Severus pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back soothingly.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I'm here. Always."


	2. I Shine Only With the Light You Give Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus expects Ophelia to leave him after what he's done, but she shows him what unconditional love is supposed to be.

**Tell me once again**

**I could have been anyone, anyone else**

**Before you made the choice for me**

**My feet knew the path**

**We walked in the dark, in the dark**

**I never gave a single thought**

**To where it might lead**

"Are you disappointed in me?" His voice was hoarse from misuse, the first words of the day weighing heavy on him. His wife cleared the table, her gaze avoiding his as she cleared away their empty tea cups and the newest issue of The Daily Prophet. "My flower-" 

Ophelia's jaw clenched, her eyes fixed on the moving portrait of Dumbledore's obituary. She considered his words for a moment, her heart thumping dull in her chest as she reread the words on the page. _Murdered_.

"Ophelia?" His low voice drew her out of her daze and she finally met his gaze with a soft, inquisitive hum. "I asked if you're disappointed in me?"

She didn't miss a beat. "No. I can't bring myself to that point."

"But you're trying. Trying to hate me?" 

His wife fell deadly silent, her hands now gripping the newspaper as she tore her gaze away from him, afraid of what he might see if she continued to look him in the eyes. "I could never hate you. I promised you that when I married you, didn't I?"

**2.**

**All those empty rooms**

**We could have been anywhere, anywhere else**

**Instead I made a bed with apathy**

**My heart knew the weight**

**Ten years worth of dust and neglect**

**We made our peace with weariness**

**And let it be**

Severus had told Ophelia everything he could about why and how he had killed Dumbledore, and though she had believed every word he spoke he could not deny her time to grieve. He was prepared for her to tell him to leave the house they had bought together in the English countryside. He still had Spinner's End, where Voldemort expected him to be staying, he could go there if his wife wanted space. He was nearly ready to pack his things when he felt icy hands on his neck.

"Your hands are freezing, dear girl," he muttered, sitting still as a statue against her touch. His eyes lowered to the flower patterned tablecloth his own hands were folded over. He had not left his seat at the dining table since breakfast, and he suspected he would not leave for quite some time now that she was touching him. He would be as still as he had to be if it meant she never left him.

"I was outside tending to a particularly fickle Asphodel-"

"Asphodel?" He scoffed. "What do you need that for? Are you planning to poison someone?" He felt her hands leave his neck and he shivered at the lack of her freezing skin. "Is it me? I'd deserve it."

Ophelia gave a forced, dry laugh as she pulled up a chair beside him, her face much more pleasant than it had been earlier that morning. "Just giving myself something to do other than contemplate whether or not my husband is going to be assassinated."

His dark brows furrowed. "I've just killed a man- a very powerful and respected man- and you're worried about me?"

"You've made yourself a public enemy, Severus."

There was something in her voice he didn't recognize and it _scared_ him. "I suppose I have...What will you do now? I'm sure your father doesn't want you risking your life-"

"I don't recall giving my father permission to dictate my marriage."

He respected her when she was like this, but he was also weary of her own judgement. _Did she want to be right or was she doing what she felt was best for her? One day her pride would get her in trouble and he could only pray he would be there to save her._ "So do you wish me to leave or stay?" He couldn't help but ask. "You know there will be nights where I can't be here, when I'll have to be convincing... _him..._ that I'm loyal."

"As long as you're loyal to me."

"I made a vow that I would be."

"It's not unbreakable."

"To me it is."

Ophelia reached out for him and he thanked Merlin for the ice cold chill of her slender fingers as they encompassed his hand. They were both silent for a moment, both of their gaze fixed on her wedding ring; a simple gold band with an emerald nestled in the center. She had been sorted into Gryffindor during her time at Hogwarts but both he and Horace Slughorn had frequently reminded her that she truly belonged to Slytherin. Her ambition and wit set her apart from her other classmates in her own house. Though Severus could not deny she was the bravest woman he had ever known, there was a flicker of cunning within her that could have consumed her, and as her teacher he would have loved to watch her flourish in Slytherin. As her lover, he didn't care she had been placed in the **_wrong_** house.

"You know I love you, Severus?"

Those words would always feel foreign and he always felt undeserving. "I can't figure out why, but I am in your debt for it." He blinked at her, his dark eyes searching her pleasant face as he tried to decipher why she had said that so suddenly. "Do you regret loving me?"

"No."

"I would not fault you if you did, you could have been anyone. You could have been _with_ anyone." His voice was steady and even but his tone dripped with self doubt.

"I don't care. I wanted you and I still want you."

"Why?"

Ophelia's ever freezing hand closed tighter around his and he couldn't help but shiver. "My dear girl, you really must do something to warm your hands."

At his words, she pulled herself into his lap, her hands pushing their way down the collar of his shirt. He hummed in dissatisfaction but he couldn't bring himself to move away from her. His arms snaked around her wide hips, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Aren't I a monster? Why are you touching me?"

Her freckled lips moved to speak but she couldn't find the words, instead she opted to stare at a strand of dark hair resting against his forehead, silent and thoughtful.

"Sometimes I think you're just a painting come to life."

Her blonde brows furrowed. "How so, my dear one?"

"Beautiful and serene and very _very_ quiet."

"Not all paintings are silent, need I remind you-"

"Take...the compliment, my sweet. You know what I'm trying to say." He searched her face, silently begging her to look at him. _Really_ ** _look_** _at him_. "You're always in your head about something and I always find myself wishing I could listen to your thoughts."

"You could. You of all people could."

"Oh don't be so literal."

"It's my defining quality, my sweet prince, what would I be if I wasn't literal?" Her eyes finally met his and all he saw was innocence, as if she had completely denied he was a murderer.

"No...no your defining quality is that you're _merciful_."

Ophelia's hands were warm now but she didn't move them, the pads of her fingertips pressed firm against his shoulder blades. Her bottom lip trembled as she sucked in an unsteady breath. "I have to believe you when you say you wouldn't have killed him if you had any other choice, but-"

Severus' breath caught in his throat. _There was always an exception_. He braced himself for the worst.

"But it still breaks my heart."

 _That_ was the worst possible thing she could have said. "Oh... _darling_. I'm so sorry, I _never_ wanted to break your heart. That was the last thing I wanted to do."

Her eyes closed and he felt lost without her blue hues staring back at him. His hands flattened against her back, pressing her closer to him but still she did not open her eyes.

"Are you scared of me?" He couldn't live with himself if she was scared of him. He was notorious for being frightening, especially to his students, but she had always expressed that she felt _safe_ with him.

"No. I'm scared _for_ you."

"I seriously question your priorities," he teased, leaning his forehead against hers. "Don't worry, my dear. I'll protect you and that's all the matters.

"You can't protect me if you're dead."

His own eyes snapped shut and his jaw clenched. For years he hadn't cared if he lived or died. He had made so many reckless decisions and not once did he care about anything except honoring Lily. _But now_...now he had someone to live for. "I'm not going to die, my dear." But he knew he would...He had made his peace with it and somewhere deep within her, he knew she had too.

"I forbid it!"

"You forbid me to die?" There was a hint of laughter in his tone, though he knew she was deadly serious. "I'll be good. I'll stay right here, my girl." What he had done scared him to death, but he would fight through that _for her and only her_.

Despite everything, he had a fairly lovely summer with her. She intended to come back to Hogwarts as Slughorn's assistant, but Severus spent endless days trying to persuade her to stay home and away from danger. Of course he lost every tireless "argument". He was appointed headmaster and he very well could forbid her from coming back, but he couldn't bring himself to do that to her. If she wanted to be at his side through the worst, he couldn't stop her. Even if he tried to keep her away, she would surely find a way to follow him to the ends of the earth.

Ophelia spent every morning bartering with him for more time in bed, and sometimes he just couldn't resist. On one particular morning, he lay beside her in their four poster canopy bed, silently enjoying the feeling of her fingertips against his bare chest as she spoke wondrous fantasies of them running away together.

"Would you do it?" She prompted. "Run away with me?"

"I have a duty to fulfill," he sighed.

"But if you were guaranteed that everything would work out in the end?"

He didn't have to think about it. "Yes. I would run away with you. But it's not possible, my dear one. And even if it were possible, I don't deserve that. I can't run away from everything I've done."

Ophelia frowned, her fingers mindlessly spinning a strand of his chest hair as she listened to him speak. "Why wouldn't you deserve it?"

"I've done horrible things."

"I forgive you."

His gaze turned toward her face but her eyes were fixed on the ink on his forearm. "Why? Why would you forgive me?"

"You're not that person anymore. You're trying to do the right thing no matter what it takes. Is that not honorable?" Her hand left his chest to rest against the dark mark on his arm. His jaw clenched as she traced it with her soft fingertips. _He felt as if she was being tainted by just touching it_.

"My merciful love..."

"It'll all be over soon, I feel it. And I don't want to lose you to this war. Run away with me, I won't ask you again."

Her gaze met his and his heart hammered in his chest. How could he say no to her? _He had to say no to her this time_. "I _want_ to."

"But you won't?"

"No...I won't. I...can't."

She knew he was right but it made her ache all the same. _She knew what would come next and she couldn't protect either him or herself from it._

**Name your courage now**

**We could have had anything, anything else**

**Instead you hoarded all that's left of me**

**Swallowing your doubt**

**Like swords to the pit of my belly**

**I want to feel the fire that you kept from me**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to our dear Alan Rickman today!


End file.
